


The King's Pet

by BadCopingMechanism



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Bondage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Crowley (Supernatural), Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadCopingMechanism/pseuds/BadCopingMechanism
Summary: After the death of his hellhound Juliet, Crowley felt a hole in his pack. He begins plotting and planning to welcome a new addition to his home - a human addition, as a perfectly hellish solution for his problems. Crowley's POV.
Relationships: Crowley & Crowley's Hellhound Juliet (Supernatural), Crowley (Supernatural) & Original Character(s), Crowley (Supernatural)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Planning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'll try to update on a semi-regular schedule. Please feel free to comment, I'd love to know what anyone thinks.

Crowley slumped over his desk, the mountain of paperwork seeming to grow by the second. It was late in the evening, and he needed to make some progress on Hell’s reformation. So many things were so inefficient. This was the first moment he had to himself since the latest fiasco with the Winchesters. This one had come with a high cost, his beloved hellhound Juliet. With a flick of his wrist, he raised the seal on his private quarters; no one would disturb him now. He allowed himself to relax and was surprised by the heavy frown that centered on his face. He steadied himself, fixed his posture, and made a grab for the first order of business: complaints from the soul collections department.

A despondent whine from the shadows broke the heavy silence in the dark office. Since the moose had murdered his poor Juliet, Crowley’s new alpha hellhound, Romeo, had been pining, and Crowley was not happy.

Juliet had been Crowley’s baby, the first hound that he had molded and raised from pup-hood. Back before becoming King he had made a name for himself as a hellhound breeder, and Juliet had been a part of the first litter that he’d been exceptionally proud of, and the only one he’d kept all that time. He remembers command training her with his pack and the pride of her first kill. How she had grown from a toothy ball of fluff to a tank of a beast, reliable and resilient. For all that time Juliet had been Crowley’s shadow; his unseen backup through every interaction.

He had made the mistake of bonding her with Romeo a decade ago and since then Juliet had become sloppy. She hadn’t done nearly as much fieldwork since, usually thanks to their occasional litter of pups. She’d been killed between breeding seasons, her last litter long since grown and sent to other packs. Crowley allowed himself to flush with pride, the pups were the finest in all of Hell, even if he hadn’t been actively breeding pups in decades.

Romeo whined again from the shadows Crowley had told him to watch and wait from. He threw the paperwork down on his desk in frustration. He couldn’t focus on the whining drivel of the idiots who couldn’t do the simplest job in Hell competently. What use were millennia of torture and training if it didn’t inspire creative thinking and self-sufficiency?

Romeo whined again and Crowley snapped at him, “hush” he snarled, face momentarily viscous glaring into the heavy shadows blanketing his office. The one simple lamp on his desk illuminated the hazy darkness. Bookcases extended around him seemingly forever. This place existed in Hell to suit his needs. The screams of lost souls and the smell of fire couldn’t touch him here. Only his own faint aroma of sulfur reminded him who and what he was. Romeo whimpered an apology and the room fell eerily silent. The damned mutt should be grateful they were in his office rather than the field. His dogs were unfortunately out of practice. They were still beyond lethal and incredibly obedient to him, but Juliet had left a hole in the pack dynamic and in Crowley’s life. With the stress of the Winchesters momentarily off his shoulders, he would finally have time to amend the situation. He knew some intense training would be needed to reign the pack back in, but drastic measures would have to be taken to fill Juliet’s space.

Romeo had stepped into Juliet’s role less than flawlessly to Crowley’s immense annoyance. He was happy to be in his master’s company, but he wasn’t as even-tempered as Juliet had been. Romeo was too ready for a fight - especially now that he faced his next breeding season alone. Crowley hadn’t bred Juliet and Romeo the season prior, something he immensely regretted. A last litter would have solved some of his problems. Now he was stuck with Romeo, and several other beta males in his stable, and no female to temper them through their upcoming ruts. It would be expensive to arrange for multiple bitches to be brought in, especially given their rarity. Nearly all the hellhounds sired were male, only a one in ten chance of a female. Females with Juliet’s disposition were even harder to come by; either the female fought their way to dominance amongst their siblings, or they would be runts, only fit for a few litters before being retired. He also knew his demons would complain if reassigned to tend to his hounds - not that he cared. He frowned at the thought of other demons interfering with his pack. He refused to even allow other demons into his private stable for them. He was possessive over his dogs and his pups.

In fact, Crowley was at a loss without the constant companionship of his beloved hound. He stood from his desk and was immediately aware of the lack of her presence, the constant alert attention on him. He deeply and immediately missed being the center of something’s world, something that adored him. Juliet had been with him for so long that another hound couldn’t replace her. But he couldn’t stand the void of her presence. An idea flickered to life in his mind, and he tried to dismiss it as an impossibility, as a legend, but all hellhound breeders knew the story of the first hellhounds.

When God had made the beasts, he intended them to be protectors and guardians of his children, but when he realized he’d infused them with too much of his own violence he destroyed them. Lucifer managed to save Ramsey, a woman turned hound in the process of creation, and she birthed the first bastard hounds, loyal only to Hell. Crowley remembers his mentor regaling him with tales of ancient demons capturing and taming a human to be an idol of Ramsey, capable of breeding the most desirable and powerful hellhounds if the demon fulfilled its role of master. The bonding process would tether the idol to their master, a companion for all the demon’s days. No demon had resorted to this magic in his lifetime; he was sure of it, and if it had ever been possible, all the demons who had succeeded were long dead. All the hounds he’d seen had been bred through the conventional method. His mentor had warned the rites necessary were difficult for the mortal and required a lot of patience and reserve from the demon - making it almost impossible to breed this way, so much so that no modern demon seriously considered it.

But Crowley’s mouth watered at the thought, and if the past few years had taught him anything it was that anything was possible. His idol could be a perfect bitch for his hounds. Wild and willing to take, not only for them but for himself - its master. A human molded so perfectly to his purpose, permanently situated in his home. This being would be too weak to pose a threat to him, and guided by his hand to be the ideal companion, one who could serve him in capacities Juliet couldn’t. A soft body in his bed when he wanted, and the perfect pet and companion for his pack otherwise. The idol would never see battle, would be safe and protected as a perfect pet for centuries. As long as he kept his pet guarded, by the rest of the pack no less, he’d never have to lose her. An idol of Ramsey would be the perfect addition to his pack, and a suitable substitute for the protection Juliet offered.

He walked over to his bookshelf, almost without thought. The shelves began moving, sorting through his massive collection, and pulling relevant books into the space near him in an attempt to help. The magic permeating the air in this space felt heavy, the weight of all Crowley’s knowledge and power - both his by nature and by position.

Preparations would have to begin immediately if he was to successfully complete the ritual before his hounds entered their breeding season, already he might be cutting it close. It would be nothing to renovate his private quarters in preparation for the idol, he could magic it with a thought here in Hell. No, most of the work would be finding the rites, learning the spells, and finding how to successfully bond the person to him.

Then comes the next problem: finding his idol. He would have to consider carefully as they would be with him forever, or at least until he got bored or displeased with his pet. Personalities could be adjusted, but a complete overhaul would be time consuming and make the process hard, no, he decided, much better to seek a submissive personality, someone who could bend to him and adjust well given the proper training. The body could be shaped as well, both magically, as necessary for the rites, and physically through training; though to keep to a timely manner he would seek a body that attracted him. Something to covet, for his eyes only, for all eternity.

Romeo whined again. Crowley clicked under his tongue and the giant beast materialized from the shadows. Romeo, though less impressive than Juliet had been, was still the size of the massive desk. Romeo hunched down and pressed his wet nose against Crowley’s leg, a slight metallic blood scent blooming in the air with his happy pants, long tongue lolled out of the side with pink drool dripping down.

Crowley absentmindedly pets Romeo’s ear, pleased with his plan, and set in his decision. He was eager to have some of the preparations underway. The first order of business, finding the rites. He cleared his desk and pulled out an obsidian scrying orb. Seating himself he commanded Romeo to return to the shadows and guard him, an unnecessary precaution given all his warding and seals, but one his paranoia couldn’t fight. Focusing on the orb, his eyes rolled back and red bloomed in the whites. The search begins.


	2. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley prepares his idol's home and uses his pack of hellhounds to search for her.

Stealth was of the utmost importance for Crowley. He couldn’t risk his lackeys knowing about his plans and using them to exploit him. He knew that the subject he chose would be extremely vulnerable during their transformation, both due to his position as King and through their own mortality in Hell.

He was frustrated at the lack of progress he’d made in the three weeks since deciding to create an idol of Ramsey. The most frustrating, and disappointing setback had been determining the correct ritual. The practice’s age made it beyond obscure, and it seemed the process could be completed in multiple ways, though Crowley was mistrustful of the lack of structure and the lack of surety. Magic was rarely flexible, it often demanded exact ingredients, timing, and incantations. This process seemed much more fluid according to the alarmingly rare accounts.

He wished he could find a cut-and-clear explanation on how to raise an idol, but each of the documented cases he had found and studied contradicted each other. Some placed a higher priority on the idol’s disposition, others on the training methods used, and some began with binding rituals while others finished with them. None stated how the demon was to know the magic took and the binding complete and permanent. All the documents on the process were incredibly obscure, only referencing a rite of the moon to be completed the month before breeding season. He had discreetly sent feelers out into the occult underworld and witch communities, offering a reward in return for more information and lore on the rite. He had compiled a list of things he believed to be essential and had resigned himself to winging the rest and hoping for success.

He still had a few months to prepare, and if all else failed he would alter the subject’s memory and try again. Of course, he’d bite the bullet and procure some female bitches for his pack, but he wasn’t happy about the idea of kenneling and breeding them out. He’d been out of the hellhound breeding community in Hell for too long, no one would cut him a deal, especially not with his Kingship. No, a worst-case scenario he’d have to offer some favors and cancel some debts that he quite liked being owed.

To take his mind off things Crowley began renovations to his quarters in Hell. When he found his idol he didn’t want to waste any time; he would be ready. Under his California-King, he had installed a large kennel for the subject to sleep in. The kennel contained two doors, one pulled down from the top and was black like the bedframe. It contained air vents for fresh flow but was designed so Crowley could give himself privacy. The other door was a traditional iron bar with a lock enchanted so only he could open it. These bars would give him the ability to watch his pet. He had designed the interior to be relatively cozy. The back of the kennel had a light that glowed like soft moonlight, contrasting the heavy reds and blacks of his decor. A light, but plush mattress with a grey blanket and pillow adorned the bottom of the kennel. He planned on using these comforts as a reward. Good girls were allowed to keep their blankets and bed, bad girls were put in a bare kennel. He had ensured that there would be enough room for his pet to situate themselves comfortably, but that the cage wasn’t so deep that they could press to the back of it to escape his reach.

He wanted the kennel to be a safe space for the idol, but one that clearly defined their roles. In his mind, he could see her crawling in on her own and cozying up, so secure in her position that locking the kennel was unnecessary. Or him reaching down in the night to unlock the cage, her nude body crawling out and climbing into his bed, by his permission and invitation to adore him. A soft smile graced his lips as he conjured a stuffed animal, a fluffy beige puppy to be exact, and he tucked it into his idol’s bed.  
He’d reinforced the bondage straps and hooks on his bed and ensured the padding on his playset was secure. He’d also added a few brackets for easy leash access throughout the room in anticipation of training.

The bathroom’s main additions were in the walk-in shower and claw-foot tub. The shower had new leash brackets as well as an upgraded, multi-function sprayer. The clawfoot tub had a removable adult-sized baby-bather, a soft seat which he could strap her to for easy bathing. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use the restraints for long, but when training any animal, he would have to have patience and guide her through the training. He had also cleared space for supplies. A fresh enema set up was stored in the closet, along with diapers and pee-pads. He knew that would be one of the most difficult parts of training, but necessary in the idol’s total submission to him.

The sex dungeon down the hall was fully stocked, and Crowley added at least one new thing to it every day. He walked down the corridor and surveyed the room, trying to think of anything else he could add to the room. Another large bed, this one with a metal canopy frame rested at the very back of the room. The center was occupied by a large bondage chair, designed akin to a gynecologist’s, and a personal favorite of Crowley’s. He ran a hand over the cool leather cushion in anticipation. A spanking bench was pushed over to one wall beside a cart of assorted lubes and creams, some magic. The walls were lined with shelves holding a dizzying assortment of dildos, plugs, beads, and torture devices, some with deliciously fun results. Many of them were custom made or infused with exotic sex magic. Crowley felt his arousal building low in his gut and he ran his hand over a leather strap, shiny and oiled. He cracked it through the air and smacked it in his other palm, feeling a thrill of excitement at the contact. Soon the dungeon would offer him more pleasure than from all the whores he’d had in it combined. All he had to do was find his idol.

He set the strap down and sighed. The selection was crucial, and thus he was running on much less energy than usual. No time to relax and enjoy the small tortures in life. After Crowley finished his Kingly duties for the day and finished his paperwork, he prepared his meat suit for a night on the town and got to work.

Crowley left the dungeon and returned to his bathroom. He was appalled when he gave a half-glance to the mirror, he was exhausted and irritable, and it showed on his meat suit’s face. He stripped and showered quickly, anxious to not waste the limited time he had to devote to personal projects. After the shower, he washed his face, checked his shave, and dried his hair. A dab or two of cologne before drying off fully and putting on a trim suit. He chose a charcoal shirt and a slim black tie. He attached a holster to his belt and slid a slim knife in. A long thick overcoat, with a pair of leather gloves stuffed in the pockets, completed the ensemble. A black case with a small assortment of sedatives was tucked in the inside breast pocket. He was dressed.

Now to find a location. As he exited the bathroom he whistled lowly under his breath and felt the air around him immediately shift. Within seconds his pack was tailing him through the house. The three betas were often useful as they were extremely task-oriented. Romeo on the other hand had been hung up on a beachfront bar in Miami for the past few evenings.

The hellhounds were the perfect beasts and could understand commands perfectly. The pack was very excited about the prospect of an idol of Ramsey to breed, they were wholeheartedly on board with this task. Crowley had explained the type of woman the pack would desire and then sent them out, to sniff out compatible souls and alluring scents. As they roamed across the region, stalking and investigating every woman they came across, Crowley watched from his scrying orb. If he sees someone of interest he teleports to that hound’s location and introduces himself.

He raised the seals on his office and released the hounds before quickly lowering them, immediately feeling vulnerable without the presence of the hounds around him, especially after momentarily opening the seals. He shook it off as nonsense and sat down to get to work. For a while he flipped back and forth from the beta’s location, watching the crowds as the dogs would be watching them. Unfortunately, on Earth, it was the early hours of the morning on a Tuesday and few people were out. A couple of college girls stumbling home drunk, some third shift workers on break, night shift cops: the scenery of the evening wasn’t promising. He flipped to Romeo and was disappointed, but not surprised, to see the stubborn new Alpha at the Miami bar.

Crowley decided to watch for a few moments. He’d been to the establishment the first night Romeo had targeted it. It wasn’t anything fancy, easy coastal bar food and cheap drinks. The wooden plank floors opened to a deck with steps down to a volleyball court and beach. Its main draw was how late the deck stayed open, long past the main restaurant's closing time, and on the beach, the party could last all night. But it was Tuesday, and it was slow, yet Romeo remained fixated on the outdoor bar. The same bar that Crowley had sat and ordered from the last time Romeo had forced him to go there. Dumbass mutt.

Crowley watched the scene for a minute longer and was about to switch back to the betas when a movement behind the bar caught his eye. Romeo’s body language changed. He was intensely focused on this person, as though trying to show his reason for being here.

Crowley opened his eyes. His head spun for a moment, readjusting to the dim light of the office. The break in connection from the pack was always unpleasant. Scrying in this method, with hellhounds he had specifically trained, allowed him to see multiple places with ease by switching between viewpoints but gave one hell of a headache after. Still, the way Romeo had been so intent on that woman. He'd only seen her briefly, but a small thrum of excitement ran through him. Perhaps the hunt was finally on.

He took a deep breath and teleported to the bar.


End file.
